


Filthy

by SecretReyloStan



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Dirty Talk, Don't mind me I'm just fangirling, Epilogue to a much better story, F/M, Mitan/Midi, Reylo babies, Smut is not my specialty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-13 22:44:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20181940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretReyloStan/pseuds/SecretReyloStan
Summary: One possible epilogue for the wonderful story Mitan/Midi by @ao3animal (link: https://archiveofourown.org/users/animal). She translated the French for me... so, yeah, I'm feeling pretty special. :)





	Filthy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [animal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/animal/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Mitan, Midi](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16602782) by [animal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/animal/pseuds/animal). 

> I got alotta nerve, touching this story. Brass balls, clearly. But I missed these two, what can I say?
> 
> Animal's writing is exceptionally amazing, as you know. If you keep your expectations low, you may also enjoy this.
> 
> If you'd like to read the English translations of the French filth, they're at the bottom.  
-srs

“_Chaton_.”

Rey can only bare exposing one eye to the light of day. Her cuddliest cat Moo is nowhere to be seen, but Gaston lays at her feet on the bed - grumpy, but always around. 

Like her. 

Ben did not like the name Gaston, but it was the only French name Rey could think of, from _ Beauty and the Beast_, obviously.

Sometimes she calls Ben ‘Gaston’ and sings to him when she wants to be extra annoying. 

‘_No one’s dick’s as in-cred-a-bly thick like Gaston!’ _

Moo Cat was so named because he is huge, and white and black, like a cow. 

He appeared in the backyard one day, shortly after Ben came back with her to the cottage... after days of marathon sex and crying confessions and bottles of wine and smirking sarcasm and no clothes... then, out of the blue, there was Moo Cat.

“This is not what a cow says. _ Meuh _ is for a cow. _ Meuh, Meuuuh_-” Ben seemed genuinely upset with her about it. “Not _ Mooo…_”

“_Yes_ it is. That’s what his name is. Moo. Moo Cat.”

He gave her his most patronizing glare. 

“He’s British,” she shrugged. 

Ben shook his head, muttering as he walked away.

  


She’d thought she’d lost him forever, when he’d only been a few kilometers away. She still gets annoyed sometimes when she thinks about it. _ Asshole_. 

That was ages ago, years.

Rey is thirty-two now.

“I have something for you, chaton.”

He's so sweet to her, though. She doesn't really understand why. 

Although sometimes, when he's underneath her, and she's riding him as if her life depended on it, his expression… the way he looks at her. 

At those moments, she kind of understands. 

But they haven’t had sex in a week. She’s been feeling like death. 

“Breakfast in bed?” she croaks and attempts a smile, but squinting at the sun turns into more of a grimace. 

He sets a tray over her, with some juice, and a plate covered by a napkin. When she sits up under the tray, her stomach growls - a good sign, because she’d been struggling to keep things down. 

He grabs the napkin, pulling it off with a flourish.

“_Voilà_.”

Rey’s slight grimace immediately turns into a deep frown. 

“What the bloody fuck is this?”

Ben's eyebrows wiggle. “Good choice of words, bloody fuck. We have not had one in quite a while, _non_?”

A pregnancy test sits on the tray between them. 

They stare at each other long and hard - Rey shocked, Ben smirking in delight. He grabs the juice and takes a sip.

“But…” she squeaks. Her mouth hangs open. She can’t seem to close it. 

“I’m thirsty.” 

“But… But the ring...”

He holds up one finger while he finishes the juice. Once it's empty he gives a satisfied sigh and looks at her.

“When did you last change the ring?”

“_Change _ it??” 

Rey leaps out of bed to the bathroom, tipping the tray but leaving the test.

She slams the door as hard as she can. She stares at her reflection in the mirror. She tries not to hyperventilate as she counts the days, the weeks. 

She can't be pregnant. 

She digs around the cabinet under the sink for the box, the fucking ring box.

_ Goddammit_. 

When she got the contraceptive ring, the doctor spoke French, and Ben was translating but the whole thing was so awkward that she wasn’t exactly paying attention. She knew the important things.

It wouldn’t interfere with her antidepressant.

She could keep it in if she wanted, to not get her period, and it would be okay. Right?

Isn’t that what they said?

She slumps back onto the floor.

“Rey?” 

He's outside the door. 

“_Je t’ai dans la peau, _remember? Maybe now I am in yours, too, you know?” 

She can hear his hope, but also his apprehension. It's in the sweetness of his voice. 

“It’s good. It will be okay, Rey.” 

He sets the test down at the bathroom door and leaves, presumably to make breakfast. 

_ Fuck me, is he _ happy _ about this?_

* * *

“My grandmother’s name was Maude.” 

_ “Maud? Non.” _

“Are you insulting my grandmother?”

“It’s too much like maudlin_… _sad, over-emotional. No.” 

Rey sucks her teeth and gives him a look that says, _ And what’s wrong with sad? _

She puts her hands on her hips, daring him to admit he is sick of her shit, sick of _ her_, of her depression...

He sets down the tiny outfit he's folding. She’s been trying not to weep at the little yellow baby dress in his huge hands, because hormones are the worst.

His approach is slow, but confident, like a cat about to pounce. Like a tiger, like a _ panther_. 

_ Damn him, why does he have to be so _sexy _all_ _ the time? And why does pregnancy have to make me so fucking _ horny _ all the time… _

“I won’t call my baby Sad, and neither will you. Of all the adjectives I would name my baby, sad is not one of them.” 

“What adjective would you call her then?”

He nuzzles under her ear, humming into her skin in a way that burns.

“How about _ Dégoûtante?” _

It doesn't matter what he says to her when whispering French like that, the bastard. 

She involuntarily rubs her thighs together. 

“What does that even mean?”

He pulls his head back to look deep into her eyes. She can't breathe.

He smirks a little bit before he answers.

“Filthy_,_” he says, then smacks her ass, soundly. 

* * *

Ben holds Rey as she holds their baby, in shock, staring at the human person they’d made. 

_ She’d _ done this. Rey had actually made - and _ delivered_! - a perfect, beautiful, healthy baby girl. She’s never felt more proud in her life.

“Mélanie,” he whispers as he gently strokes the baby’s downy black hair. 

“Melanie?” Rey looks at him incredulously. “What does Melanie mean in French?” 

_ “Mélanie. _It means..._” _ He smiles, not looking at Rey. “Little dark-haired girl.” 

He catches her eyes and flares his nostrils a bit. 

_ He thinks he’s so clever. _

Rey huffs through her nose. She tries to frown at him. 

“Fine.” 

He kisses her forehead.

“Mélanie,” she whispers as she looks down at the baby - her _ daughter_.

* * *

“She will speak both, because her parents speak both. I don’t know why you’re bothering to fight this. We live in France.”

“I don’t want the two of you saying things about me, or anything else for that matter, that I don’t understand! You’ll start having all these little inside jokes-” 

_ “Arrête... tu comprends le français, chipie.” _

“I don’t speak French,” she hisses. 

_ “Si.” _

“No I don’t!”

_ “Tu me comprends très bien en ce moment même. Comment ce serait possible, si tu ne comprenais pas le français?” _

“Because... you... are a big dumb ox! And... It doesn’t take much to understand you… and… I don’t speak _ Meow_, but I know when the cats are saying they’re hungry!”

He shakes his head and tsk’s at her. 

“I’m sorry Rey, but I didn’t understand a word you said.” 

He sets about preparing for their day, warming a bottle for Mélanie, starting the coffee. When Rey sees the breakfast he's making, she squawks. 

“You know I hate oatmeal.”

“What, my love?”

“I hate oatmeal!”

“I’m sorry but I don’t understand you.” His expression seems genuinely confused. “You want cardamom?” He grabs a spice jar and shakes it.

“Ben, I hate cardamom and you know it.”

“I thought you _ hated _ cardamom, but it’s nice you want to try new things, Rey.” 

“Ben-” 

“Sets a good example for Mélanie - try new things all the time.”

“Ben I swear to god if you try to serve me oatmeal with cardamom-”

“Rey, I don’t…?” 

“I will vomit all over you, I promise.”

He shrugs his shoulders and holds up his hands helplessly. 

“I don’t know what you’re saying… the oatmeal will be done in no time.”

“I will scare Mélanie until she cries, and I will do it all day long, so she will cry all day…” she threatens as she follows him around the table, although they both know she would never do that. 

“If you have something to say to me Rey, you’re going to have to try harder.” He stops and puts a hand on his hip. “I don’t understand English.” 

Rey puts both hands on her hips, and huffs in frustration. 

“You are a ridiculous asshole!” 

She glares at him, but he doesn't budge.

The standoff is broken by Mélanie whimpering from the living room. Rey moves to get her but Ben is faster. Rey stands in the kitchen with her arms across her chest. 

Ben returns with Mélanie in his massive forearms, holding the baby so she's facing him while he talks softly to her.

_ “Bonjour, _ _ma chérie__, j’étais justement en train de penser à toi.” _

“Ben-”

_ “Je pensais au jour où on t’a conçu, ta mère et moi. Tu aurais dû la voir. A quatre pattes, sur ce canapé, me suppliant de la bourrer de ma queue-” _

“Ben!”

_ “Il fallait que j’aille profond, tu vois, pour que mes graines se frayent un chemin tout au fond de la chatte de ta maman-” _

“BEN!”

He pauses and looks up at Rey innocently.

“What? I am saying good morning to our daughter.”

“You are not saying that and you know it!”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Rey shakes a little, clenching her hands now down at her sides. 

_ “C’est pas ce que tu as dit.”_

Her accent is terrible.

One side of Ben’s mouth rises a bit, while he shifts Mélanie over his shoulder.

“And how do you know what I said? You don’t speak French at all…”

“Because-”

“Ah ahhhh,” Ben sucks his teeth. “_Non_.”

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. It's stupid how her heart pounds. 

_ “Parce que tu m’as baisée suffisamment de fois maintenant pour que je sache ce que veut dire 'queue' et ‘chatte’.” _

He places Mélanie in the baby seat in the kitchen, on the floor. Ben moves closer to Rey as his smile grows.

“And what about breakfast?”

_ “Je déteste l’oatmeal. Tu le sais. Et le cardamom aussi. Je vomirai tout.” _

At this, his expression turns sour. He grabs the handle of the baby seat, turns their daughter away from them, then pets Mélanie gently on the head. 

He stands up with darkening eyes, stalks over to Rey. He grabs her wrist and spins her around, placing her hands on the table in front of them. 

“Tell it to me, the story I told our child…” he growls as he raises her dress over her ass. "_Euh là,_ no underwear... dirty girl...” he whispers, making her shiver.

“You said-”

“Ah ahhhh…” he pinches her, hard. She jolts. 

“In French, if you please.”

Rey is fuming. If her body wasn’t on fire right now, she’d take Mélanie in the bedroom, lock the door and breastfeed her all day.

But as it was…

_ “Tu lui as dit que j’étais à quatre pattes…” _

“Yes, that’s right, you were on all fours…” 

He gently slides his hands over her ass cheeks and around her hips, fuller now after Mélanie. 

_ “Et que je te suppliais-” _ she gasps a little as one warm hand slides over her wet pussy lips, _ “-d’aller profond.” _

“I love when you beg for my cock,” his fingers float near her entrance, around her clit, but don't quite touch either place the way she wants. His other hand lowers the top of her strapless dress. 

Once the fabric is bunched down at her waist, he slides two of his fingers inside of her at the same moment he gently squeezes one of her leaking, swollen breasts. She cries out softly, releasing air.

“And remind me again, why did I have to go deeper?” 

Rey can only moan as he puts another finger inside. She rocks back a little on the hand that's fucking her, but he abruptly pulls it away. 

Her whimper is pathetic.

“I'm so sorry, but I want to hear the rest of the story. Of how we made our beautiful baby…” he whispers as one thumb spreads breast milk over Rey’s sensitive nipple. 

_ “_Grrr_, connard!” _

He chuckles into her ear, smearing slick from his fingers onto her ass.

“Ok then, tell me in English...”

“You had to go deep,” she snarls while he settles his fingers once again near her opening, “so that you could get your seeeed-” she whines as he circles her clit a few times.

“Keep going, chaton. We’re sooo close to the end…”

“So you could get your seed deep into my-” her throat closes up as he moves the head of his cock along her slit, from top to bottom and back again.

“Where, chaton?” He stops rubbing to push just the tip inside of her. “Tell me…”

“Into my dark-” 

He holds his breath and enters her further. 

“Wet-” 

He shifts so both his hands are on her breasts. He licks a stripe up to her neck. She turns her head to him and whispers.

“..._ Chatte_.” 

At that, he plunges himself roughly inside of her. They both moan loudly in relief and pleasure as he pushes up into her from behind. When she grabs his hands on her breasts, he slams them back down on the table, covering her body with his own as he fucks her fast. 

It has been a while since they’d been together like _this_ \- with Rey at his mercy, Ben rutting into her like an animal, her squeaking with pleasure as heat moves up her legs to her center. 

When he moves his hands to grip her hips, she can feel his sack slapping against her. The obscenity of it, the sounds...

Too soon, the reality of his size and strength sends her tipping over the edge. As she clenches around him, he cries out, pulling her hips closer so she takes every damned inch of him inside of her. 

Fucking like this in the kitchen in front of their kid? They are going to hell.

She's fine with that.

As he bends back over her, panting in her ear, he whispers, “Like this, _ chaton_? Deep like this?” and somehow shoves himself just a little further in. 

She gasps, trying to steady her own breath.

“Yeah…” 

He pinches her butt again, hard. 

She growls at him.

“_Oui, comme ça! _You bloody wanker.”

He chuckles and stands her up. He hugs her waist from behind while still inside of her, resting his cheek on her head.

“_Je t’aime, Rey. _ Even with your filthy potty-mouth, I can’t believe it...” She pulls herself off of him so she can turn around. 

He lifts her dress back around her breasts, gently caressing as he goes. 

“You have no idea when she was conceived, you prat.”

She is frowning but he still kisses her soundly. She mewls again but bites his lip before stomping off to the bathroom.

“And fuck you for making me speak French!” 

“My goodness - and in front of the child, no less!” he calls after her, rubbing his mouth while she slams the door. 

Ben grins as he pulls his pants back up, moving his softer, now slightly sticky member back into his underwear. He picks up the baby seat by the handle and makes a silly face when he places his sweet daughter on the counter in front of him. 

Mélanie is sucking on her fingers, oblivious, watching him with bright eyes while he washes his hands. 

“_Il faut que je me lave les mains avant que tu puisses manger, mon coeur,"_ he explains, "Because your mommy is a very bad girl.” 

The baby simply coos as Ben picks her up to feed her.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:  
"Je t’ai dans la peau," = literally 'I have you in the skin' (or like the song "I've got you under my skin.")
> 
> “Arrête... tu comprends le français, chipie.” = “Please... you understand French, you brat.”
> 
> “Si.” = “Yes, you do.”
> 
> “Tu me comprends très bien en ce moment même. Comment ce serait possible, si tu ne comprenais pas le français?” = “You’re understanding me perfectly right now. How could you do that if you don’t speak French?"
> 
> “Bonjour, ma chérie, j’étais justement en train de penser à toi.” = “Good morning, my sweet girl, I was just thinking about you.”
> 
> “Je pensais au jour où on t’a conçu, ta mère et moi. Tu aurais dû la voir. A quatre pattes, sur ce canapé, me suppliant de la bourrer de ma queue-” =  
“I was thinking about the day we made you, your mother and I. You should have seen your mother. She was on all fours, on that couch, begging for my cock to go deeper inside of her-”
> 
> “Il fallait que j’aille profond, tu vois, pour que mes graines se frayent un chemin tout au fond de la chatte de ta maman-” =  
“I had to go deep, you see, in order for my seed to get all the way to the top of your mommy’s dark, wet pussy-”
> 
> “C’est pas ce que tu as dit.” = “That is not what you said.”
> 
> “Parce que tu m’as baisée suffisamment de fois maintenant pour que je sache ce que veut dire 'queue' et ‘chatte’” =  
“Because you have fucked me enough now that I know how to say ‘cock' and 'pussy.’”
> 
> “Je déteste l’oatmeal. Tu le sais. Et le cardamom aussi. Je vomirai tout.” = “I hate oatmeal. You know this. And cardamom. I will vomit.”
> 
> “Tu lui as dit que j’étais à quatre pattes…” = “You told her, I was on all fours on the couch…”
> 
> “Et que je te suppliais--d’aller profond.” = “And I was begging you--to go deeper.”
> 
> “Grrr, connard!” = "Bastard!"
> 
> “...Chatte.” = “...Pussy.”
> 
> “Oui, comme ça." = “Yes, yes like that..."
> 
> “Il faut que je me lave les mains avant que tu puisses manger, mon coeur." = “I have to wash my hands before you can eat, my love.


End file.
